


Only If You Run

by Esin_of_Sardis



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:05:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esin_of_Sardis/pseuds/Esin_of_Sardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a rainy day, a man in a blue box appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only If You Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elli.O.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=elli.O.).



> Written from a prompt by my Rumbelle Secret Santa because I finished NaNoWriMo after her.
> 
> Dedicated to elli.O., my best friend.

Imagine with me a rainy day. Rain beats against the window in your living room. The little drops chase each other down, down, down. For once in your life, you don’t have anything better to do than sit. It’s that sort of day.

The rain has a way of calming you. The blurry, clean feel it gives refreshes you. It’s been a long week—a long winter really. There have been ups and downs, you suppose. But still you stand here at the end of it all, exhausted.

You rest your head against the window, only slightly bothered that the glass is so cold. You wish that your life wasn’t like it is. You’ve always dreamed of adventure, of being like the heroes in books and movies. You feel stuck in your mundane life. Nothing happens. You get up. You eat. You do laundry from time to time. You work. Just like everyone else on the planet.

You’re not usually this bitter of a person, you reflect. It’s a mood. It matches the rain and your lack of things to do besides sit here and stare out the window. Today’s just one of those days.

The view outside is familiar. You see it every day, whether you’re looking or not. It seems different right now though. Newer, fresher. It’s the rain. It’s all in the rain. It’s washing away the foul dirt that’s built up over the winter months. You feel like you can finally breathe again.

The sound behind you doesn’t particularly alarm you. It should, logically, but instead you turn with a smile growing on your face.

A blue police box has materialized in your living room.

You stand up, furry blanket tumbling from your lap, untouched teacup rattling in its saucer as you brush against the coffee table. You feel like your face might just break from smiling too wide as you slowly stretch out your hand. The blue painted wood is warm to the touch and almost seems to pulse under your fingers. It’s real.

The door bursts open and a man dashes out. He nearly crashes into you,  stopping with barely a few inches to spare. He’s just like you’d imagined him. His hair is sticking up and he’s wearing the trench coat and red shoes and even his ridiculous glasses.

“Well, hello there,” he says, stepping back so he doesn’t overbalance and fall on you. He seems perplexed, his forehead creasing as he frowns at you, looking you up and down. “You… you’re not a cat.”

You laugh. “No, I’m not. Is that a problem?”

“No. No! Not being a cat… well, it’s a fine thing. It’s great—have you seen any cats?” He pulls his sonic screwdriver from inside his jacket and holds it up, frowning at whatever results it gives him.

“No,” you say. You haven’t been watching for any though. You’ve been watching the rain. But suddenly the rain seems boring, very boring. After all, there’s a big blue box in your living room and a man with a screwdriver who’s glad you’re not a cat.

“Right, then,” he says, looking around as if he’s lost something. “I’ll be off then.” He turns and runs back to the TARDIS.

“Wait!” you call. He turns, hand on the door, and looks back. “Can I come?” you ask.

He looks you over, considering. “There will be danger,” he says, leaning against the blue door frame, his voice serious. “And running, lots of running.”

“I know.” You grin. This is what you wanted. This is what you need. His face breaks into a happy grin and he takes your hand.

“Alright then,” he says. “Allons-y!”


End file.
